Page 75 of Second Alarm
"Okay."
"Okay."
"So, we're going to be careful."
"We're going to be careful." She drinks the coffee. Neither of us laughs at the wordcareful.We're both being respectful of the word.
The barbecue is held in the fire station parking lot because every year Big Jim insists on hosting it at the Watershed and every year Chief Rodriguez wins the argument on the grounds of parking and beer-licensing, and every year Big Jim brings his grill to the station anyway and sets up a second, unlicensed operation on the principle that Chief Rodriguez doesn't, in fact, know what the chief knows.
Station 7 does it the way it does everything — too much food, not enough chairs, Derek in a specific apron that says WARNING: THIS MAN HAS OPINIONS about which he's, annually, sincere. There's a bounce house intended by our insurance for children under twelve. Last year Rivera got in the bounce house after three beers. Chief Rodriguez yelled at himfor twenty minutes. The yelling made it into Rivera's clipboard quote.
The sun is out. Eighty-one degrees. A good, awful day.
Hanna is already there. She's wearing a turtleneck, sunglasses, hair up, talking to Gemma with the specific body language of a woman holding a paper plate between herself and the rest of the universe as a shield. Gemma is pretending to help her with a name tag while clearly whispering, because Gemma's face is doing everything.
I don't walk over. I walk to Derek.
Derek is at the grill. "You're on bun duty. Buns are in the truck." He hands me tongs. He's smirking — specifically smirking. I don't like his smirk.
"Hey." His voice drops, the smirk gone. "You good?"
"I'm good."
"You're sweating."
"It's eighty-one."
"You're sweating at eighty-one."
"Derek."
"Fine. Bun duty." He turns back to the grill.
I go do bun duty.
I see Cal. He's carrying a folding table, because Cal arrives at every event and immediately starts carrying folding tables, he's grinning at something Aiden said. He sets the table down and walks over.
"You seen my sister?" He looks at me.
Aiden answers before I can manage it. "No." It's out in under a second. I look at him. He looks back at me with the expression of a man who just threw himself in front of a train and would appreciate some acknowledgment.
"No. No, Cal," I say.
"Okay, tough guy, she's by the cooler." Aiden aims this at me, not Cal.
"I was asking because Mom wants to know if she brought the gummy bears."
"Right. The gummy bears." I shake my head. "Haven't talked to her."
Aiden tilts his chin at me. "You okay?"
"I'm vertical."
"You're doing the voice." He makes a hand gesture that's entirely unflattering and, in fairness, very accurate. "The thing you do when you're concentrating. Are you concentrating?"
"I'm on bun duty."
"The buns are that serious?"
